


Some Kind of Trouble

by tinx_r



Category: Riptide (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-24
Updated: 2011-03-24
Packaged: 2017-10-17 06:14:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/173789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinx_r/pseuds/tinx_r
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cody wants a girlfriend. But it takes a tough case to bring home to him that what he needs is something else entirely...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Kind of Trouble

>   
> 
> 
>   
> _... if this is what we’ve got  
>  then what we’ve got is gold ..._   
> 
> 
>   
> 

Security at the local high school senior prom wasn't exactly Cody's idea of a good time, and it certainly wasn't the type of case the Riptide Detective Agency usually undertook. But it paid their standard rate, so when Jeff Angus, the principal and a friend of Murray's, had asked them to do it, Cody and Nick had looked at each other, shrugged, and gone along with Murray's excited acceptance of the job.

So far, Nick had broken up two incipient brawls and Cody had confiscated a bottle of unlabeled spirit that smelled more like paint stripper than anything meant to be swallowed, two packs of cigarettes, and consoled a tearful young girl with a broken heel on her strappy silver shoes. His first suggestion of breaking the other heel off too had only produced more tears, so he'd hurriedly pulled out one of Murray's cell phones--shaped, coincidentally, like a shoe--and let the teenager call her mom.

After the girl's mother had arrived with another pair of shoes, Cody walked her back into the hall and left her abruptly with the first group of kids he saw. She'd been clinging to his arm far more affectionately than he was comfortable with, and the last thing he needed was a sixteen year old with a crush on him.

He scanned the room and saw Murray guarding the refreshment table against the hazards of spiked punch. There was no sign of Nick, and Cody started back the way he'd come, toward the front doors.

"I don't believe escorting the students is in your brief, Mr Allen." Even over the band, the cool voice carried easily.

Cody jumped and turned. He found himself staring at a willowy brunette in a low-cut green dress. She was obviously not a student, and she was regarding him appraisingly. He blushed. "Uh--the young lady broke a heel--her mother was just here--"

"Naturally." The woman smiled, showing small white teeth. Cody swallowed hard. "Tell me, Mr Allen--Cody--do you dance?"

"Uh--yes--no--that is, I'm security, ma'am." Cody shifted uneasily, glancing back toward the door. Then he looked back at the woman. She was pretty--he'd nearly call her beautiful--and there was something in her smile that made his head spin. He wondered if he should ask her out. His heart pounded at the thought.

"Yes, I know you're security." She moved a little closer. Cody could smell her perfume, heady and sweet. He shook his head to clear it. "You have no idea of the relief it gives me to know you're--" she ran her tongue over her lips "--on the job."

Cody gulped. Blood rose in his cheeks and he shifted awkwardly, pants suddenly too tight. He looked away, glancing automatically at the exit--and saw Nick standing just inside the door, waving frantically. He froze.

"Uh--I have to go--" Cody waved to let Nick know he was responding, then glanced back at the woman. "What's your name?" he blurted.

"Melinda." She smiled seductively. "Hurry back, won't you?"

Cody strode around the edge of the dancefloor, heart pounding. Nick's timing was terrible. Sure, girls hit on him from time to time, but a classy lady like Melinda--she was something else.

Nick was waiting impatiently by the double doors to the foyer. "If I knew you had a thing for school teachers I'd'a signed you on as a janitor. Willya keep your mind on the job, guy?"

"Aw, c'mon, Nick, she was hot. And if you called me over here for nothing, just when I was about to get her number--"

"What, you didn't get her number yet? Cody, I gotta give you some tips, man. Hell, even Murray woulda made it past first base by now."

"Maybe I didn't wanna rush it." Cody gave Nick a dirty look. "C'mon, pal, what's up? Don't tell me you dragged me over here just because you saw I was making time with a pretty woman?"

Nick sobered immediately. "You know what, I wish I did." He dropped a hand on Cody's shoulder and steered him out into the hall foyer, lowering his voice as the music receded behind them. "There's something going on in the parking lot. A couple of guys hanging around, maybe scoping cars to boost."

"Students?" Cody was alert in an instant, responding to the tension he felt in his partner.

"Nah. Limo service drivers." Nick shrugged at Cody's uncomprehending look. "I guess, rich people use limo services. If you were a high-end car thief, there's worse ways of finding targets."

"I guess." Cody frowned. "So do we call the cops?"

"There's no law against walking in a parking lot. Cops can't do anything unless they take a car. But if we have the licence plate and direction--"

Cody nodded, grabbing his partner's elbow and giving a quick squeeze. "Good thinking, buddy. Let's go."

Outside, they slipped into the shadows. Nick led the way across the lot, silently indicating three black limousines standing in a row near the entrance. All bore a distinctive silver flower logo on their doors, underlined, in tasteful flowing script, with the words Stan's Car Service.

"Stan's, huh? Who's Stan?"

"No idea. But once the Boz warms up his computer, I'm figuring ol' Stan's in for a nasty surprise." Nick's teeth gleamed white as he grinned back at Cody.

Several rows over, Cody saw a dark figure moving between the parked vehicles. He nudged Nick's shoulder and Nick dropped to a crouch, easing his way toward the suspect. Cody followed, ghosting in Nick's wake, fingers of one hand lightly touching Nick's hip. The slightest change of Nick's weight told Cody when to stop, when to turn. When to draw his gun.

Two heavyset men were peering in the windows of a white Lexus coupe. Both wore gloves. Cody tapped Nick's hand, and Nick nodded and drew his gun.

Taking his own weapon in hand, Cody held up one finger. They had to wait for the men to make an attempt to steal the car, otherwise the cops couldn't hold them. Nick nodded his understanding, and as Cody gestured, slipped around to the other side of the car.

Cody held his position, waiting. He could hear nothing from Nick, and the other men were speaking too low to be overheard.

Suddenly, there was a shout from the direction of the gym. "Who's that? Guys--Nick, Cody! He's getting away!"

The two men spun away from the car, looking around wildly. Cody jumped to his feet in time to see Murray grappling with a man three times his size, just in front of the gym door. He heard Nick roar in anger, and spun around to see one of the car thieves coming at him full tilt.

He braced himself for the shock of impact, going down hard and throwing a punch as he hit the ground. He heard the air go out of his assailant with a soft ‘oof', and a few feet away he heard the sounds of a scuffle as Nick tackled the second man. Then Cody's attacker grabbed him by the shirt and threw him back against a parked car.

Cody struggled to breathe. The guy was built like a tank, but maybe he was slow. He came off the ground heavily, eyes fixed on Cody, and Cody swung wildly at his head. If he could make a quick knock-out--

The thug wasn't slow. His punch came at Cody with all the force of an express train, knocking Cody's swing aside and landing on Cody's shoulder. Pain shot down Cody's arm, and he clinched with his assailant, trying for a knee to the groin. But a hard slam to the gut knocked Cody back against the car, barely able to breathe, and then something like a sledgehammer hit him under the jaw.

"That's it, Cody, that's it." A feminine voice was cooing in Cody's ear. "Wake up, Cody."

Cody woke instantly, muscles clenched ready to fight. He was still breathing and a lot of him hurt, but nothing that oughtta stop him from fighting. Nothing except the field-nurse holding him down. He wrenched himself out of her grip, rolling and coming up on one elbow in a single movement, scanning the terrain. First he had to find Nick, then he had to get them both undercover before the VC--

The woman shrieked and scuttled backward. Cody blinked. She wasn't a field-nurse: she was dressed in a green frock, with makeup and her hair piled up on her head. And instead of jungle green, he was looking at parked cars, the smell of asphalt and petrol in his nostrils instead of cordite and smoke and rot.

He closed his eyes, caught between the past and present, momentarily unable to determine which was the reality, which the nightmare.

An instant later, another hand landed on his arm. Cody recognized the touch in the moment he tensed to fight, and suddenly the world righted itself. He was Cody Allen, private detective, performing security for a high school prom in the safe sane world of 1984.

Slowly he opened his eyes. Nick was looking back at him, holding his arm, eyes anxious. Cody smiled and sat up. "Did they get away?" he asked softly, with barely a hint of tremor in his voice.

"Yeah." The anxiety faded from Nick's eyes and he sat back on his heels. He didn't let go of Cody's arm. "But they didn't get the car. Seems like Murray surprised their lookout."

"Huh." Cody drew his feet underneath him, and Nick helped him up. They stood together, leaning into one another, and Cody surveyed the situation: a police car, light bar flashing, stationary with its doors open in front of the gym; Murray, gesticulating wildly at a uniformed officer, and Lieutenant Quinlan striding across the parking lot toward them.

"Cody!" The woman in green reappeared at Cody's elbow. "Cody, you saved my car! Did that dreadful man hurt you?"

Cody stared blankly. "Your car?"

"I think Miss Cane means that the Lexus is hers," Nick said gently. He laid an arm across Cody's shoulders. "Quinlan wants our statements, man. You up to it? D'you remember what happened all right?"

"Uh--yeah." Cody shook his head to clear it. He remembered everything. Even the woman in green was coming back to him. "Melinda. You're Melinda, right?"

"That's right. Melinda Cane, deputy principal."

"Thank you, teach. If you wouldn't mind going back to the gymnasium, one of my officers will take your statement. I need to speak to these bozos." Quinlan stopped in front of them, hands on hips, staring at Melinda until she turned on her heel and walked away. Then Quinlan rounded on Nick and Cody. "The volleyball team dropped the ball, huh?" He snorted. "Don't suppose you happened to get a look at them between serves?"

***

Cody's shoulder throbbed like fire, there was a sizable bruise forming on his jaw, and his back ached unrelentingly. The fluorescent lights of the squadroom were giving him a headache, and the too-dry piped air made his eyes sting.

He and Nick had pored over the mugshot book while Murray and Wes, the department computer expert, had searched interstate records for leads to high-end car theft rings. They'd come up with a big fat zero, and Cody stared at the weak, swirling coffee in his polystyrene cup while he listened to his partners bicker.

"The only way is to do an aerial sweep. Gimme the stats on the missing cars and I'll be able to spot ‘em from the air. Simple." Nick snapped his fingers.

Cody crumbled the edge of the cup between his fingers. It was already two am. He knew Nick could fly on a few hours sleep--hell, on no sleep--but he also knew neither of them were getting any younger.

"There are twelve cars missing since Sunday! That's a big haul, Nick. For a gang as organized as that, you have to bet the vehicles are under cover."

"Not all twelve fit the profile." Quinlan's sarcastic tones quelled the computer expert's excitement. "But they're definitely organized. Wish I could say the same about you three."

"If I'd had the Mimi, I could've followed those bums," Nick grumbled.

"I have the names of the drivers from the limo service. That's somewhere to start." Murray rubbed his hands. "Isn't this great, guys?"

"I wouldn't call a car theft ring great, Boz," Cody said tiredly, snapping off another piece of spongy polystyrene.

Quinlan stood up. "Me neither."

Cody stood too, putting his cup down on the desk. Half of the cup's rim was missing, torn into jagged peaks, and specks of polystyrene littered the floor under his chair. He scuffed his shoe over the evidence.

Nick came up close behind Cody. His hip nudged Cody's and his hand rested lightly between Cody's shoulderblades, but he spoke to Quinlan. "You'll keep us posted?"

"For what good it'll do." Quinlan smirked.

Cody turned and headed for the door, fighting the absurdly exposed feeling that had come over him when Nick's hand had disappeared from his back. Rationally he knew it was reaction to the fight and exhaustion kicking in, but it took all his concentration to make it across the busy squadroom and out into the corridor.

As they exited the building, away from prying eyes, Cody swung back, bumping hard into Nick in his haste to get close to him. His breath came loud and ragged in his own ears.

Nick staggered a little but said nothing. His arm went round Cody, supporting, steering, anchoring him. Cody stumbled once then recovered, moving in step with Nick, his breathing steadying as they crossed the parking lot toward the Jimmy.

"We could stake out the country club parking lot. I could rig up a camera surveillance system. Or wait, maybe the yacht club would be better. What do you think, guys?"

Nick made some reply that Cody didn't catch. His head hurt worse and there was roaring in his ears. He stopped beside the truck, swaying a little, hoping that Nick wouldn't let go, and fumbled in his pocket for the keys.

"Uh-uh, big guy." Nick took them out of his hand. "I'm driving. C'mon, get in."

Cody found himself in the passenger seat with Murray clucking solicitously over him from the rear. "I guess you took a harder hit than we thought, huh, Cody? Nick, d'you think we ought to take him to the hospital?"

Nick started the Jimmy and patted Murray's arm. "No, I just think we all need a good night's sleep, you know? I'm bushed." The truck rolled forward and Cody closed his eyes.

***

The vehicle lurched to a stop and Cody froze, listening for machine gun fire or worse, the tearing shrieks of death. But all he heard was a grunt in the back talking too loud, and Nick carelessly jangling the keys.

He hissed through his teeth in warning. Patrol must be over, but even in camp they weren't safe—he'd lost count of the number of times Pitbull'd drummed that in their heads.

Nick touched his shoulder in understanding and barked something at the talkative soldier. The truck rocked as everyone piled out and Cody knew he should follow. But his eyes wouldn't open, his feet wouldn't move. He was too tired to be afraid, until Nick's hand disappeared from his arm.

Then fear came. Cold in his belly, dark and dense, holding him in his seat forever. The jungle was cold tonight, and the wind through the trees sounded like waves on a beach. Cody tasted the salt of his own tears. _Please don't leave me._

A chain rattled close by and Cody tensed for the explosion. But instead the truck rocked and squeaked as his door was opened and then Nick's arm eased around his shoulders.

Cody gasped air, eyes flying open. Nick drew him close, holding him steady without speaking as Cody took in the rubber dash of a civilian truck, the orange glow of lights, the soft slow chop of dark water. He felt himself shaking.

It felt like seconds, but Cody had an idea that hours might have passed by the time Nick gently guided him out of the truck. His legs barely held him up and halfway down the companionway he went to his knees.

Nick carried him the rest of the way.

***

Cody woke in the pale light of dawn. He was in Nick's bunk, not his own, crowded against the wall. Nick lay beside him, one arm slung across Cody's ribcage, his knee between Cody's. He was sleeping lightly and as Cody moved, his eyes flicked open.

"You okay?"

"Mmm." Cody sighed and moved incrementally closer to Nick. It wasn't the first time they'd woken up in the same bunk. His memory of the night before was hazy, but he remembered getting slugged. His shoulder twinged and he winced.

Nick rolled on his back and shifted his grip, gently inviting Cody in. Cody nestled close thankfully, curling into Nick's side and breathing a sigh of relief as Nick held him.

"Go back to sleep, baby," Nick whispered, rubbing Cody's hurt shoulder with one hand. "I got you. We're okay. We're okay, buddy. We're okay."

The Riptide's cabin faded into a hundred jungle bivouacs, the tiny gray-walled bedroom on base, the cramped, uncomfortable holds of a score of choppers. They could be in any of those places, or none of them, but wherever they were, they were okay. Nick said so. Cody closed his eyes and rested his head on Nick's shoulder. "I'll take next watch," he muttered.

"Sure you will, big guy." Nick stroked the back of his neck. "Sure you will."

The next time Cody woke up, he was alone. Sun streamed through the window on the opposite wall--above his bunk--and he sat up, blinking in confusion. He was in Nick's bunk. His shoulder throbbed, deep and heavy, and he could feel bruises starting on his ribs. He felt hot and stiff, and the headache from the night before pressed threateningly behind his eyes.

He laid a hand flat on the wood panelled walls, listening to the soft slap of the sea against the hull. It was real; it, and the Riptide, the prom job and the car thieves. He closed his eyes, but that didn't hide the long ago jungle that threatened to engulf the present. Cody folded in on himself, starting to shake.

"Cody! Cody, take it easy, man, take it easy." Nick's voice was a lifeline and Cody clung to it with everything he had, somehow forcing his eyes open. Then Nick had hold of him, pulling him out of the past, out of the jungle and into the sturdy built-in bunk of the Riptide.

Cody landed, gasping, staring at the sick knowledge in Nick's eyes. The past was still as raw and close for him as it was for Cody. Cody groped for Nick's hand. "Don't leave me there, buddy," he said in a harsh whisper.

"Never," Nick said simply and sat down on the bunk at Cody's side. "You feel like some breakfast yet?"

"Dunno." Cody rolled his shoulders slowly and shot a sideways look at Nick. "I'm still kinda shook up."

Nick gave him an appraising look. They were neither of them inclined to admit weakness, even to each other. At least not out loud. "Murray wants us to stake out the yacht club tonight. And after school, we got to meet with Miss Cane. I figure you don't wanna miss that."

Cody grimaced. "If I remember right, I started out by getting K.Oed at her feet, then nearly swung on her when I woke up. Maybe I better take a raincheck."

"Chicks love flawed heroes." Nick's arm slid around Cody's shoulders, solid and comforting. "But I'm gonna tell Murray to save the yacht club for next week. Meantime," he looked at his watch, "I thought maybe you felt like a swim."

"A swim?"

"Yeah. Loosen your shoulder up."

"You know what, Dr. Ryder, that's not bad." Cody grinned. "As long as you're not worried about swimming with a flawed hero, that is. What if I drown you in the final act?"

Nick leaned in close, holding Cody's eyes. "Trust me, baby. We're nowhere near the curtain call on this one. C'mon."

The hot sun and the sparkling ocean chased away the lingering remnants of Cody's headache. Instead of jungle green and running soldiers he saw bikinied babes lurking near the dunes, patterned towels covering nothing more sinister than soft gold sand.

He was sore from the fight, and his ribs were mottled with new bruises. But as he put effort in to swimming faster than Nick, he felt his body start to respond, the stiffness and aches leaving his muscles. He won the race to the end of the beach and rolled contentedly upright, treading water and grinning as Nick surfaced beside him.

"Always said I could take you with one arm tied behind my back."

Nick snorted. "I gave you a head start, old man."

"You sure did." Cody smirked. Nick had been eyeing two pretty girls splashing in the shallows when Cody had shouted the signal for their race. "Didya swallow any water with your tongue hanging out like that?"

"Nope." Nick grinned. "But I got the blonde's number. Watch and learn, buddy. Watch and learn." With a heave of his shoulders, he disappeared back into the waves, stroking hard the way they had come.

"Nick! dammit, Nick--!" Cody started in pursuit, throwing everything he had into the chase. There was no way Nick had had time to speak to the women. There was no way he'd gotten their number. Cody spluttered, nearly swallowing water himself as he mistimed a breath. "Nick!"

Nick tossed him a towel as he jogged out of the water. Cody snatched it out of the air and slung it across his shoulders. "You didn't get anyone's number. You're--"

"Sure I did." Nick pointed. The two girls he had been appreciating earlier were halfway up the beach, heading for a gold dune buggy. Black letters on the vehicle's minimal body proclaimed "Cookie's Cookouts" with a local number embellished in flowing script underneath.

"That's cheating. That doesn't count."

"Sure it does." Nick's easy grin lit up his face. "That makes three for me this week, and none for you. Count ‘em, buddy."

"No way. If Cookie over there counts, Melinda sure as hell counts. I can find the number of the school in the directory and--"

"Three-One, then." Nick slung his arm around Cody's shoulders. "But I tell you what, big guy," he said, lowering his voice confidingly. "Cookie's the one for my money. After all, we already know she looks hot in a bikini. And she has good-lookin' friends."

"Melinda's got a good figure," Cody protested. "And she can dance, she said."

"Uh-huh. You have fun with that." Nick chuckled and started up the beach, arm still around Cody. The two girls got in their beach buggy and shot off along the sand with a roar. Nick looked after them and nodded. "She looked high maintenance to me. And one more thing. Mine can cook."

Cody stared at him, outraged, then shoved, meaning to bring Nick down in the sand. But Nick was too quick for him, diving away and scrambling up the beach, laughing. Cody gave chase.

They arrived back at the Riptide sandy and exhausted, still giggling, arms across each others' shoulders. Cody took a hot shower and emerged to find nothing remained of the pain from the hits he'd taken but a lingering heaviness in his upper body. He donned his white pants, and was holding up his lemon and peach polo shirts, trying to decide which one to wear, when Nick came back from the bathroom, toweling his hair.

He dropped his towel when he saw Cody and took the polos out of his hands. "Nah, wear a sweater, man. You'll stiffen up if you get cold, you know?"

"Oh." Cody nodded slowly, realizing Nick was right. "I guess, but I feel great now."

"An' that's how you want to keep it." Nick bent and rummaged in their closet, bare ass bobbing, and Cody looked away hurriedly. _Melinda. Melinda's tits in the green clingy dress._

Nick tossed a pair of his own jeans to the bed, followed by his light blue shirt. Then he held up one of Cody's light sweaters, the white one patterned with narrow colored stripes.

Cody shrugged. "I guess. Or the diamond one."

"I like this one." Nick held it out. "And I'm three up, so that makes me the expert, huh?"

"I dont think it makes you an expert on my sweaters," Cody retorted, feeling his color rise. Nick always did better with girls--didn't get tongue tied, always had a line. Didn't seem to care if the chick didn't go for it, just flashed that blinding smile at the next in line. And there was always a next.

Cody sighed. Girls liked him--he knew that--he just had to work on his conversation. Keep it flowing, don't panic, don't look at Nick's ass. If he got those three things down, he'd do just great. He took the sweater from Nick and pulled it on.

"There you go." Nick pulled on his jeans and picked up his shirt. "You look great."

Cody swallowed hard. "So do you." Without waiting for a response, he ran upstairs to the salon.

***

In the cold light of day, Melinda didn't seem quite as alluring as she had in her green evening dress. But her pink sweater highlighted perky, tight breasts, her dark curls bounced on her shoulders, and the sway of her hips belied her sensible straight teacher's skirt.

She slid a check across the desk to Cody, barely glancing at Nick and Murray sitting on either side of him. "We're very glad we hired you," she purred. "We have another event coming up, a celebration of our football team's successful season, and I'd like to hire you again."

"Boss! I've got some excellent ideas for improving communication and visibility--"

"I'm sorry." Melinda Cane interrupted Murray. "I wasn't clear. It wasn't your agency I'd like to hire for that occasion." She sat back in her chair, smiling slightly. "It was you, Mr Allen."

"Me?" Cody exclaimed, as Nick and Murray chorused "Cody?"

"Yes, you. I was most impressed with the way you handled yourself last night. Not that your colleagues weren't also effective, but the next event is smaller. I feel one man is all I'll need. Of course, I'd expect to pay less."

"Now wait a minute. This isn't how we work, Miss Cane. You hire the agency at the same rate, and you get the cover you need. And even for a small function, it would be hard for one man--"

Cody raised a hand, cutting Nick off in mid-stride. "Nick's right, that's how we usually work. But maybe this once we could make an exception?"

Nick gave him a fulminating glare. "Listen, Miss Cane. My partner here would really like to help you out, and so would I. But we don't work without backup. I'm sorry, but that's the way it is."

Cody opened his mouth to argue, but Murray spoke first. "Nick's right," he said gravely. "Last night should have been a simple job, and yet we nearly ended up in the ER."

Melinda sighed. "Well, I'm disappointed, but I understand your position." She smiled and stood up. "I'll be in touch with the details. Thank you for your time, gentlemen."

As they headed out the door, Melinda took Cody's arm, holding him back. Cody hesitated, looking from the woman to his partners' retreating backs.

"I don't care whether you bring your friends to this pep rally or not," she purred. "But I thought you might like to get together tonight."

Cody blushed. "Really?"

Melinda bumped her breasts against his arm. "Really. And my plans don't include Mr Ryder and Mr Bozinsky. Do you think you can slip your leash in time to pick me up at seven?"

"My--my leash? What do you mean?"

Melinda looked amused. "Will Mr Ryder insist on providing you with backup?"

"That wasn't what Nick meant. Security can be more dangerous than it looks, Melinda. If you don't have backup, things can go wrong real fast--"

"They sure can." Melinda was staring, lips pursed, at Nick, who was striding rapidly back down the corridor toward them. Slowly she turned, pressed against Cody, and kissed him full on the mouth.

Cody gasped, cock filling uncomfortably in his tight pants. Then Melinda stepped back as Nick came to a stop in front of them.

"Are you done here?" Nick asked shortly.

Melinda gave a low chuckle. "Have a nice walk," she said softly, and went back inside her office. The door clicked shut.

"What was that about?" Nick gave the door an unfriendly stare.

Cody blushed a little and turned away. "Nothing." He started walking.

Nick fell in step with him. A few strides later, he dropped his hand between Cody's shoulderblades. It felt great, and Cody felt the tension Melinda had started in him unwinding--then suddenly realized she might still be watching them. He pulled away.

Nick gave him a hurt look, then stuffed his hands in his pockets. "So you're taking her out, huh?"

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to." Nick sighed. "Listen, I just... I wish you'd stick with Tammy, man. She's cute, she likes you, and she doesn't drive a Lexus. Or teach school."

"And she's ten years younger than me. This one time, Nick, can you just--not?" Cody stopped, staring stormily at his friend.

Nick stared at him, a curious mixture of sorrow and anger in his eyes. Then he shrugged. "Nothing to do with me anyhow, big guy." He turned on his heel and marched off toward Murray and the Jimmy without looking back.

***

Cody wasn't used to dating alone. Most of the time, he, Nick and Murray went out in a mixed group of friends, and if at the end of the night one of the girls was sitting on his lap, he counted it a win. As long as Nick was glaring at him across the table, that was, expression and hand signals both crystal clear: he wasn't going for a walk on the beach, or taking a room at Straightaway's, so if Cody had any fun planned, he'd have to take it elsewhere.

Cody would grin and signal right back. It had become a sort of game, a tussle of wills to see who would break first. The game invariably ended with both their dates dancing with easier prey, and Nick and Cody walking home together, arguing over which girl was prettier, and which of them should have had the decency to spend the night at Straightaways.

But tonight, it was just him and Melinda at one of King Harbor's nicest restaurants. Melinda was sipping wine and eating asparagus, and Cody was wishing he had a beer instead, and wondering how a restaurant that charged as much as this one could screw up a steak worse even than the Officers' Mess at Fort Ord.

He pushed his plate away.

"I thought we might go to a club later. After all, I didn't get to dance with you last night." Melinda smiled and put her wine glass down.

Cody suppressed a shiver. He disliked clubs--there were too many people, the music was too loud. It was too hard to spot anyone coming up on your flank. And without Nick at his back, it would be worse than ever. "Sounds fun." He wondered how he could change her mind on the evening's amusements.

Tammy wouldn't have wanted to go to a club. She'd have wanted to walk on the beach, hold his hand, try to coax him back into the dunes well out of Mama Jo's reach. He might even have gone.

Cody looked back at Melinda. She was pretty, too, with a put-together elegance that Tammy lacked. She knew what she wanted, and she had a plan to get it. Maybe that was part of what made her exciting.

"Are you done?" Melinda pushed her chair back. "I'll freshen up while you get the bill, honey. I know a great little place for dessert."

Cody got the bill, and the dessert, and the cocktails, and another bottle of wine. And eventually he ran out of excuses to stay at the great little dessert place--quiet tables, dim lighting, soft piped music and Melinda's hand on his wrist, long fingers caressing softly. He didn't want to go to a nightclub, but he did want her, and when he suggested they skip the dancing she laughed and shook her head.

***

The nighttime streets were quiet, and Cody found his eyes straying to his passenger. She'd changed the sweater she was wearing earlier for a shimmering blouse with a scoop neck that offered a tantalizing glimpse of her cleavage, and her skirt had ridden up. In the streetlight, Cody could see the creamy expanse of her inner thigh disappearing under the shadow of her clothing. He licked his lips and sped up.

Suddenly, his mirror lit up with red and blue flashing lights and the howl of a siren cut across the roar of the Jimmy's engine. Cody swore and pulled over. He hadn't been going that fast. Then Quinlan's face appeared at the window, wearing the most cheerful grin Cody had ever seen on the man.

Cody groaned out loud.

"Now c'mon, Allen, ain't you pleased to see me? Who's your lady friend?" Quinlan didn't wait for Cody's answer, instead yanking open the door of the Jimmy. "How about you step out of the car and tell me all about her while you show me how you walk the line."

***

"DUI." The ‘Vette's engine revved and Cody winced.

"I'm not drunk. When the results come back it's gonna be fine. Quinlan's just being a prick."

Nick shot him a glance. "Quinlan showed me that receipt, man. More'n half of it was liquor."

"Yeah? And what would you have done?" Cody glared at Nick. "If it was you taking out a classy woman like Melinda, would you have stuck her with the cheapest bottle in the place?" He bumped his arm against the car door and flinched. The police had taken an evidential blood test, and his whole arm ached.

Nick swung around a corner and changed gear in silence, then reached out and rested his hand on Cody's leg. "Next time, take a cab," he said softly.

Cody sighed and relaxed, accepting Nick's unspoken apology. "There won't be a next time. She made that pretty clear. She called a friend of hers to pick her up and go on to the nightclub, and although she told me I should join them later, I don't think she meant it."

"You were going to a nightclub?" Nick looked at him sideways. "When did you turn into such a hip, happenin' funster?"

Cody flushed, opened his mouth, then laughed ruefully. "Yeah, buddy, you got me. But she's hot and exciting and... I dunno, Nick, I kinda thought we were hitting it off. Right up until Quinlan crashed the party, anyhow."

Nick slowed and turned the ‘Vette into Pier 56. The engine growled in low gear as he slid the convertible into its space, then fell silent.

"I'm sorry about Melinda," Nick said, and got out of the car. He leaned against the door, watching Cody carefully. "But I'm not sorry you're home early, big guy. The last couple days have been kinda rough, you know?"

Half out of the car, Cody paused, staring at Nick. Then he nodded. "Yeah. Uh, even if things had gone--" He broke off, blushing. "I mean, I'd have gone up for a nightcap if she'd asked me to, but I'd have come home--um--after." He slammed the car door and hurried to the slip gate, not looking at Nick.

Nick came up beside him, leaning gently into him. Cody fumbled and dropped the padlock, his hands shaking with the relief of feeling Nick so close. With Nick's strength, Nick's support, he could fight through anything, even the nightmares he couldn't have let Melinda see.

"Easy," Nick breathed and opened the gate. He moved through and Cody stood frozen, bereft. His legs seemed to have stopped obeying him. Then Nick reached out for him, drawing him close, back into the shelter of his body.

"Just stay with me, pal." Nick's hand slid through his hair. Cody wrapped his arms around Nick's chest, holding on, and let himself be guided down the companionway and onto the boat.

He wasn't drunk, but the wine--or maybe the cocktail--had gone to his head. That was the only explanation for the irrational urge to cry that possessed him every time Nick stepped out of reach. And when Nick had helped him to his bunk and left him alone in the quiet dark of their cabin, the feeling built until Cody couldn't fight it any more. He buried his head into the pillow, trying to breathe, trying not to call Nick's name.

"Cody--Cody--" Nick was back in an instant, pulling Cody close then snapping on the reading light and bathing them both in a circle of safe orange light.

Cody crawled as close as he could, panting, holding on. "Don't... leave me," he managed. "Please, Nick. Just stay. Just for now..."

"Not leaving you. Not now, not ever." Nick rocked him gently, then pressed a kiss against his forehead.

Cody shuddered, tears leaking through his closed eyelids. His arm ached from the needle and he could feel the throb in his shoulder starting up again. He felt hot and cold all at once, and found himself listening for marching feet, for the thunder of the choppers. He caught himself, gripping Nick's shirt, swallowing sobs. The fight had left him too close to the edge, and dinner had been the last straw.

"It's all right." Nick spoke soothingly in his ear. "There's plenty more girls out there. You're a great catch. You're young, gorgeous, you have great-looking friends..." He paused, stroking Cody's hair, waiting for a reaction.

Cody surprised himself with a short laugh, raising his head and looking up into the worried sympathy in Nick's blue eyes. "I'm not crying about Melinda," he muttered.

"Yeah? What, then?" Nick tugged Cody's hair gently. "Anything I can help with?"

"Shouldn't've gone out for dinner." Cody sighed and bit his lip. "No backup. I--it's nothing, buddy. I'm just kind of a mess tonight. And I shoulda known better than to try and go on a date."

Nick nodded. "And I shoulda known better than to let you," he said quietly.

Cody smiled slightly, and lay down again. Nick lay behind him, one arm across his chest, the other softly massaging the sore spots in Cody's shoulder. Every touch told Cody what he needed to hear, kept him safe, kept him grounded.

"All right?" Nick murmured in his ear.

Cody sighed contentedly. "Could be better," he lied. "You're not Melinda."

"Yeah, an' you're not in a club getting stiffed for watered-down drinks." Nick chuckled against his shoulder. "Trust me, big guy. I know trouble when I see it, and that chick--man, you were in over your head, you know?"

"I was not!" Cody stiffened, then realized there was no reason to argue. Melinda would never give him the time of day again. He relaxed again and twisted around so he could see Nick's face. "She was hot."

"So're the stolen cars." Nick dug his fingers into a particularly sensitive spot on Cody's shoulder, and Cody subsided with a yelp. "Go to sleep, baby. Forget her. Tomorrow's gonna be a better day."

"How d'you know?" Cody closed his eyes obediently, giving himself over to the sanctuary of Nick's arms.

"How do I know?" Nick's lips brushed the back of Cody's neck. His voice dropped, slowing and deepening, as he started one of their familiar litanies that kept the nightmares at bay. "Well, first up, we saw Cookie on the beach this morning. Come on, man. A pretty girl who runs a cookout service. That's gotta be a sign, right?"

Cody grinned and grunted assent. The morning on the beach with Nick had been the highlight of his day, Cookie or no Cookie.

"Second up, Quinlan let me bail you out. I wouldn't put it past the old bastard to lock you up for a week for the hell of it, you know?"

"Then you'd deck him."

"Damn right I would." Nick nuzzled Cody's shoulder. "So that's third. Because if I did, that'd mean another fine, and we're damn near broke again."

"What's fourth?" Cody yawned. He was close to sleep, but he wanted Nick to keep talking.

"Fourth?" Nick's voice softened nearly to a whisper as if he knew how nearly asleep Cody was--which he probably did, Cody realized with a smile. Nick always knew everything about him.

"Fourth is, you're here with me. We're safe. You're safe. We're gonna wake up tomorrow, and we got another day, you an' me. That..." Nick exhaled softly, his breath warm on Cody's back. "That's all I need, man. I got you beside me, I know it's gonna be a great day."

Cody took a deep breath. His heart was full to bursting. He didn't have words to answer Nick, but he slid his arm back, gently gripping Nick's leg in silent agreement and assurance. "Good night, Nick," he whispered.

"G'night, Cody."

As Nick tightened his arms, Cody slipped over the edge of sleep.

***

Cody awoke the next morning feeling content and relaxed. He'd slept well and deeply, and judging by the light through the blinds, it was going to be a sunny, perfect day.

He lay still, enjoying the warmth of his blankets and the soft lullaby of the sea on the hull. He'd struck out with Melinda, but what was it Nick had said? He was in over his head. Cody sighed ruefully. He didn't want to admit it, but he had an idea Nick was right. Something told him life with Melinda wouldn't have included weekend fishing trips with Nick and Murray. And it certainly wouldn't include waking up warm and safe aboard his boat.

Cody moved slightly, and froze. _Waking up warm and safe...in Nick's arms._ He shifted again, now fully aware of his partner's naked skin against his own. How had he ever imagined that Nick's body heat was from the blankets? He took a deep breath, thinking of how well he'd slept, how easy he'd awoken. _Twice in two days..._

"You okay?" Nick came awake in an instant, on guard, protective. Cody felt the tension in his body and turned over, running a soothing hand over his ribs. After the peace Nick had given him, he wished he could give the same to Nick.

"It's okay. I'm great."

Nick grinned sleepily, relaxing, stretching against Cody's body. "You're not so bad," he agreed. "Great might be pushing it."

Cody chuckled, and Nick raised a hand to his face. Gently he ran a thumb over Cody's mustache. Cody pulled back, blinking in surprise at the intimacy of the gesture. "Nick...?"

"Not often I wake up next to someone with facial hair." Nick's eyes crinkled with amusement. "And this makes it twice in one week."

"Sorry." Cody blushed, looking down. "I've been kind of a drag the last couple of days--"

"No. Hey, no." Nick's voice sharpened and he raised himself on his elbow. "Whatever you need, Cody, I'm good for, you know?"

"I know." Cody still kept his eyes down. "I just... I should be stronger. It's been twelve years. I should be able to sleep in my own damn bunk by now."

"Yeah, you should," Nick said quietly and Cody looked up, suddenly frightened. But Nick was looking back at him tenderly. "You should, and so should I, but that's the fucked up thing, man. No-one told us way back when that we were signing on for a lifetime. That twelve years on we'd still be hearing Hueys in our sleep, still be stuck in the same damn jungle. An' what that means is, some nights we can't be alone, you know?" Nick sighed, then smiled. "And I'm not talking about Melinda."

"Yeah." Cody rolled his shoulders. "The way it turned out, I think Quinlan did me a favor. I wouldn't--" he hesitated, blushing. "I mean, it wouldn't have worked out."

"Told you that from the start." Nick lay back down, grinning, and eased his arm around Cody's shoulders. He yawned. "Dunno about you, big guy, but I'm gonna grab another couple hours sleep while I can. We got nothin' on today."

"Great. I could use some sleep, too." Cody relaxed against Nick's body--then his eyes flew open. "Uh--Nick--"

"What is it, babe?" Nick rubbed his back gently, rolling toward him in concern.

"You, uh--I mean, I'm okay now."

"Better'n okay," Nick muttered cryptically. "What are you getting at, Cody?"

"If you want--your own bunk." Cody bit his lip. "You don't have to stay with me anymore."

"I know." Nick stretched. "But it's all the way over there. And it's kinda empty. You don't mind, I'm stayin' right here."

Cody relaxed into Nick's close warmth. "I don't mind. I don't mind at all."

***

The yacht club parking lot was full to overflowing with high-end vehicles. Cadillacs sat fat and proud next to sleek sports cars, and the Jimmy, at the end of a row, looked uncouth and out of place. Nick whistled softly. "Car thief heaven."

"Except for the security system." Murray frowned and pointed to what looked like a lamp-post. "Each of these pillars carries a camera, and the footage is constantly monitored during events such as this."

Cody looked at a row of limousines at the rear of the lot. Three men in chauffeur livery stood nearby, smoking and chatting. Two of the sleek black cars bore the silver flower logo. "Stan again."

Murray's frown deepened. "I can't believe that all three of those drivers from last week at the prom turned out to be a dead end. False names, false social security numbers, everything."

"Stan's gotta be in on it. I know he checked out clean, but c'mon, three guys with fake identities on your staff? That's pushing it."

"I agree, but Nick, the guys barely clearing his bills. His lifestyle checks out with his income--"

"Maybe he's just careful--"

Cody gripped both Nick and Murray's shoulders, and they both turned to him, breaking off in surprise. "Look," Cody said in a low voice, and pointed.

On the dark side of the lot, the ocean side, something moved in the shadows. Then, as the dark shape crept past a pale-colored vehicle, it resolved itself into the figure of a man dressed in black, bent double and sneaking between the parked cars.

"Let's go," Nick barked.

They already had a plan. Quinlan was on standby, and Murray leaped for the truck and his communication equipment to send the prearranged signal. Nick headed for the target, while Cody slipped back toward the beach, the most likely escape route. The cops would have the parking lot exit covered in a matter of minutes.

Cody ran down the steps to the beach and took cover behind a boulder. The sea covered most sound from the parking lot above, but it didn't stop him straining to hear. He heard the howl of sirens pass on the road above and the squeal of tires as they spun into the yacht club, but more minutes passed and no-one came his way.

There was confused shouting from above: Quinlan, Cody thought, and then, unmistakably, Nick. Cody couldn't wait a second longer. He sprinted back up the steps, staying low.

The three limo drivers were spreadeagled against their vehicles, with uniformed officers standing guard. Quinlan was in the middle of the lot, shouting and waving a weapon, while on the very edge of the drop into the sea, Nick was grappling with the man in black.

As Cody watched, the target got the upper hand and shoved Nick to the ground. The crook leveled his gun at Nick, glancing nervously from Nick to Quinlan. "Stand back or he's dead!"

Cody saw Nick's muscles bunching for a leap, and terror gave his own feet wings. He closed the yards between them in a rush and slammed his shoulder into the target. With a yell of surprise and fright the guy went down on top of Nick, his gun clattering uselessly to the ground--just as Cody's own feet slipped. Cody staggered for an instant, but his momentum was too great. Unable to stop himself, he pitched headlong over the embankment into the ocean.

His hurt shoulder impacted rock, knocking the air out of him as bright pain lanced through him. He gasped for air, but there was no air, only cold, shocking the life out of him, freezing his heart.

For an eternal instant he was paralyzed, falling, sinking, and then the shock of cold became the living, breathing sea, clasping him, drawing him down. Instinct made him kick, and suddenly the water was lifting him, holding him. Chill air, the black night surface of the ocean, the slap of salt against his face. He choked and splashed, struggling for purchase, struggling to breathe.

A long way away, someone was calling his name. A wave pushed him against the rocks and he whimpered at the sharp pain in his shoulder. He looked upward beseechingly. "Nick...?"

He heard his name again, but the call was getting fainter. Cody closed his eyes. Nick had promised not to leave him. Nick would come. Blindly, ignoring his shoulder, he got a grip on the bruising rock. All he had to do was hang on.

***

"Cody. Cody, let go. C'mon, man."

"Can't." Cody blinked. His eyes were raw with salt, and his throat burned. "Gotta... hang on." He moved his head muzzily. "Nick...?"

"It's me, man. It's me. C'mon, baby, let go for me, huh?"

Cody blinked again, but his eyes wouldn't focus. He remembered black water and pain and cold, but now he felt warm. "Got to hold on, Nick. Told you I would."

Nick choked. "You held on, buddy. You did it. Now you gotta let me get you out of here, okay?"

"Out," Cody said vaguely. Nick had come. That was important. Suddenly he wanted to touch Nick desperately. He tried to move his hands, and felt the bite of rock against his knuckles. With the movement, feeling came rushing back. In an instant he was wide awake, his shoulder cramping unbearably, cold creeping through him like a knife. He cried out.

"It's okay, Cody. It's okay. I'm gonna get you out of here." Nick's arms were under his shoulders, the only warmth in the black cold, and even though the pressure made his hurt shoulder burn, Cody felt only relief.

"Help," he muttered, starting to shake. "Nick, I can't do it. I can't...can't get my hands free."

Nick leaned in close, his head against Cody's, and Cody felt Nick's breath hot on his neck. "You can, big guy. You can, and I'm gonna help you. C'mon. You gotta do the left one first."

Still shaking, Cody managed an uncertain nod. He shifted his left hand a little, biting his lip against the scrape of rock.

"Higher," Nick urged in his ear. "You can do it."

Cody raised his hand, and there was no more rock under his fingers. But instead there was a pain like fire in his shoulder, threatening to tear him apart. "Hold on," Nick was telling him, "hold on," but Cody didn't know what to hold on to. Nick had him around the chest, squeezing, and there was rock all around him, rock above him.

Suddenly there were voices, pressing in close, and bright orange light assaulted his eyes. Cody whined fretfully, raising his hands to guard his face, and the pain in his shoulder spiked again.

Strange hands pulled him from Nick's arms, pressing him down, burying him beneath the rock. Cody fought, ignoring the pain. He wouldn't be taken. He would stand with Nick or die, and if he died, he'd take Charley with him.

"Cody! Cody, easy, man." Nick's voice cut across Cody's panic, and then Nick's hands were on his arms, gentle but firm. The rock was gone and Cody could breathe again, and hesitantly he opened his eyes.

Nick was looking down at him. Cody blinked, realizing he was on his back and Nick was kneeling behind him, leaning over. "Nick? What... what happened?"

"You went over the edge." Nick's voice shook with emotion and he released Cody's hurt arm, gently touching his face instead. "You're okay. You hung on. But you're hurt some. Let the paramedics take a look at you, huh?"

Cody licked at the salt on his lips and managed a slight nod. The voices resolved themselves into Murray, Quinlan and a stranger who kept asking if Cody hurt. Cody, his eyes fixed on Nick's, found he didn't know.

Eventually, he found himself back in the Jimmy, with no real idea of how he'd gotten there. His shirt was off, and his jeans were soaked, clammy against his body, and he was shivering. His left arm was in a sling, tight against his chest, and both his hands were bandaged. When he shifted in the seat, he felt the pull of dressings across his back as well.

Murray was sitting in the back, leaning forward anxiously. His face swam alarmingly in and out of focus, and Cody raised his right hand to cover his eyes. "Where's Nick?" he whispered.

"It's okay." Murray sounded scared. "He's just finishing up with Quinlan. He'll be back soon."

"Good." Cody breathed slow and deep, fighting dizziness. He wished he could lie down, but more, he wished for Nick. "I... I need him, Murray."

"I know you do." Murray sounded helpless, but his hand on Cody's arm helped a little. Cody felt the world spin more slowly.

"Thanks," he muttered. "Boz... did we get ‘em?"

"Yeah." Murray exhaled. "Yeah, we got ‘em. But I thought... when you went over the edge..." He broke off.

"Over the edge..." Cody remembered Nick on the ground, muscles tensed to jump. "I tackled the thief?"

"Yes. But you slipped, I guess. Anyhow, you went over the embankment and into the sea. Quinlan wanted to send for the coastguard but Nick wouldn't wait... he tied a rope round his waist and made us lower him down. And he--he found you."

"Always finds me." Cody groaned softly. He really needed to lie down. "Can we go home? Where's Nick?"

Murray took a deep breath. "He'll be here soon, Cody. Just hang on. Can you do that?"

Cody closed his eyes and leaned his head against the window. "Tell him... hurry."

***

Cody awoke in his own bunk. His shoulder was a bloom of pain and his knuckles stung like he'd been in a fistfight. He moved his head experimentally. _No broken nose._ The boat was silent, and the waves against the hull had a sleepy, nighttime feel. But there was light in the cabin.

Turning his head, Cody saw Nick sitting on his own bunk, fully dressed. Legs drawn up, he had a paperback propped against his knees. He was frowning.

"Wha's matter?" Cody murmured.

"Cody!" Nick's paperback went flying across the room. Nick dropped to his knees beside Cody's bunk, one hand cradling Cody's face, the other taking Cody's sound hand in his.

Despite the bandages, Cody managed to curl his fingers around Nick's. "Can't hang on without you," he whispered. "Hurts too much. But you wont let me go, right, Nick?"

"Never." Nick's eyes were wet. He bent and kissed Cody's forehead softly. "I'm never gonna let you go, baby. I love you, you know that?"

Cody smiled slightly and squeezed Nick's fingers tighter.

***  
Cody couldn't get comfortable. He'd spent the first few days in bed at Nick's insistence, but now that he'd recovered a little, he couldn't stand the close confines of the cabin. At least not during the day, when Nick wasn't there.

But the sling made maneuvering on the boat difficult, and his shoulder ached unmercifully. The cuts on his back from the rocks alternately itched and stung, and his bandaged hands made him clumsy. Not to mention the pain from his swollen, grazed fingers.

He looked wistfully at the coffeepot. His own cup had been empty for a half-hour, but picking up the pot and pouring was beyond him. Murray was onboard, but far too distracted to think about coffee: he was downstairs in his cabin, shouting urgent instructions into the phone. Cody thought he was probably talking to Nick.

Nick had left early, while Cody was still muzzy with sleep and painkillers. He'd helped Cody into clean sweats and told him something complicated about Stan, and the Mimi and Quinlan, and by the time Cody had made it up the stairs to the salon, Nick had already gone.

Cody flipped over the pages of Fortune magazine, glancing at the headlines and skim-reading the ones that caught his eye. Big business and the stock market didn't really interest him, but it did ensure an endless supply of chitchat for charter customers. And safe topics to bring up when his mom called.

It also kept his mind off Nick, somewhere in the sky in the rattletrap old chopper, maybe chasing bad guys without backup.

As if on cue, Murray's voice rose. "Move in! Move in! Backup, do you copy?"

Cody's heart stopped. He stared down into the galley, but Murray didn't appear, and his shouts weren't repeated. Cody tried to make himself sit still, tried to tell himself that Murray would be topside if anything had gone wrong. But eventually, he couldn't stand it any more.

Awkwardly he maneuvered out from behind the table and made his cautious way down the forward stairs. Until now, with his left arm completely out of commission and his right hand swollen and bandaged, he'd never realized how much he used his hands in getting about the boat.

But he made it down the steps safely, and slowly approached Murray's room. His heart beat fast, even as he tried to tell himself that Nick was fine.

"Bozinsky!" The Riptide rocked violently and Cody staggered against the wall. His shoulder twisted and he fought not to scream.

"Lieutenant!" Murray came out of his room at full speed and nearly cannoned into Cody. He stopped short. "Cody! Come on up, they've taken down the car thief ring! Isn't that boss?"

"Yeah, Murray," Cody managed. "Real boss."

Beaming, Murray shot up the stairs. Cody sank down in the dining booth, breathing slow and deep, waiting for the agony to subside.

"Kid, I gotta tell you, that was some work you did, figuring out old Stan was leading a double life. No wonder Stan Elstop came up clean. Stan Postle was a whole other ballgame."

"It was easy once I realized that the names Stan was giving us for his drivers didn't match the guys on shift. No wonder I couldn't trace them--he made them up!"

"Yeah, him and his brother-in-law thought they were on to a good thing. You shoulda seen their faces when I waltzed on in to the chop shop this morning."

Cody got up again and searched the freezer for ice. There wasn't much, nowhere near enough to fill the ice bag, so he screwed the few cubes he could find into a tea towel. It was nearly impossible to hold in his bandaged hand, but by draping it over his shoulder he managed to bring the makeshift icepack against his collarbone. It helped a little.

He sat back down, wondering where Nick was. As if in answer, the Riptide swung violently in her mooring. Cody's precious icepack clattered to the table, ice cubes scattering everywhere. He swore.

"There y'are, flyboy!" Quinlan sounded positively genial. "It ain't often I got a good thing to say about that goddamn wreck you insist on flying over my city, but you sure delivered the goods today."

"The Mimi's a classic." Nick's voice was so welcome Cody forgot his lost icepack. He stood up slowly and headed for the stairs.

"That was some fast computer work, Murray. Man, you had that address just about before I finished reading you the plates! And Quinlan, I was sure glad you had those cops there when I touched down. For a second there I thought for sure we were all goin' to hell in a handbasket."

"Told you there'd be backup," Quinlan said gruffly. "Anyhow, I jus' wanted to stop by and say thanks. We made a good team."

Murray exclaimed something, but Cody didn't hear what it was. He'd made it halfway up the stairs, moving slowly and cautiously, and then suddenly Nick was there.

"What the hell have you done--?" Nick sounded frightened. He guided Cody up the stairs and sat him down on the couch, fussing with his sling. "Didn't I tell you to be careful?"

Cody winced. "I was being careful. The boat moved--"

"Boats do that. That's why I left you sitting right there at the table, you know?" Nick finished refastening the sling. "Boz woulda fetched anything you needed."

"I figured you and he were kinda busy," Cody retorted.

"Not that busy." Nick grinned. "And now we got Stan, his brother-in-law and a couple of thugs in custody, and there's a whole bunch of innocent limo drivers gonna be looking for work tomorrow. Plus, it looks like we're in line for a fat reward. Who knew a prom security gig would keep us in steak, huh, pal?"

"Steak sounds good." Cody exhaled, shifting, trying to find a more comfortable position.

Nick narrowed his eyes. "Bed. And an icepack. C'mon."

Cody found himself in his bunk before he'd even finished protesting. And when Nick had finished arranging a pillow underneath his arm, he stopped complaining: it did feel better.

"You want some ice?" Nick perched on the edge of Cody's bed, fingertips gently working the tight muscles at the base of Cody's neck.

"There isn't any." Cody moved his head restlessly, then moaned appreciatively as Nick worked down across his collarbone, slowly easing the painful knots from his hurt shoulder. "Feels so good."

"Guess I'll just keep doing this, then."

Cody sighed and closed his eyes. He didn't have any complaints about Nick's plan. He reached across and rested his right hand on Nick's thigh.

"What?" Nick asked softly, his fingers continuing their steady movement on Cody's shoulder. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Cody kept his eyes closed, and didn't move his hand. "It just felt wrong being back here while you were out there. I--it was hard."

Nick was silent for a moment. "I hear you, big guy. Let me tell you, being out there without you--that's not easy for me, either. You know?"

Cody opened his eyes again. "Next time, I'll be there."

Nick smiled, and covered Cody's bandaged right hand with one of his own. "I'm counting on it, pal."

***

Cody awoke in the pearl gray dawn to the chuckle of the sea, and the kind of silence he never heard in port. He lay still, taking in the roll of the Riptide under him as she wallowed and rocked. It took him only a moment to identify her motion--the stern was made fast on a long line and the bow anchor was sunk in heavy sand. There was a light crosswise sea running, causing the cruiser to gently tip and buck.

They weren't in King Harbor.

Memory flooded back. Murray had disappeared at short notice to assist Jerome Sedgewick with a conference in Norway. Or maybe it was Sweden. Somewhere well supplied with Nordic blondes, anyway, judging by the grin on Murray's face as he'd left. And when Nick had gotten back from driving Murray to the airport, he'd looked at the smooth sea and the cloudless sky, and at Cody hunched and miserable on the aft deck. "I'm not Captain Ahab, big guy, but if you feel up to sitting beside me in the wheelhouse, I figure I can get us out to Cooper's Island without grounding her on any jetties."

And he had.

For Cody, still nursing a weak and painful shoulder from the fight and the fall, getting out of the harbor was exhilarating. He couldn't drive yet, his shoulder wasn't healed enough to swim, and even the pretty waitresses at Straightaway's couldn't cheer him up.

But out on the open sea, even with Nick at the helm instead of himself, Cody felt his heart lighten. They went the long way round, swinging out past the channel islands then doubling back until at last the secluded beach of Cooper's came into view. Cody ignored Nick's protests and the ache in his shoulder and took over, piloting the Riptide between the rocks that guarded the deep, sheltered bay, then killed the engines. They'd made her fast--or rather Nick had made her fast, Cody leaning over the stern railing and shouting directions while Nick shouted back--then Nick had grilled steaks and they'd watched the sun go down.

Cody sat up in bed, easing his arm back into his sling, then got up as silently as he could. Nick was sleeping peacefully, on his side facing Cody. Cody paused for a moment to be sure he hadn't disturbed him, then slipped out of the stateroom and upstairs to the deck.

The rising sun was the faintest blush of peach on the horizon. The dawn sky was pale gray with cloud, but it would burn off at the sun's touch. It was going to be another beautiful day.

Cody sat down heavily in a deckchair, swinging his feet to the bench. Melinda had canceled her follow-up booking and as he'd guessed, showed no interest in another date. He knew he should be upset about it--Melinda was a classy lady, the first girl he'd dated in a long time he could imagine introducing to his mother--but he was honest enough to admit that he wasn't upset, or even disappointed. He was relieved.

He and Nick had moved aboard the Riptide as soon as he'd bought her; they were strapped for cash and had nowhere else to live. He'd never intended to live on board forever. But they were still strapped for cash, and when Cody thought about it, there was no place else he'd rather live.

The boat was small, but they were used to that. He and Nick shared a room, but they'd bunked together by choice since 1972. There were too many nights they needed each other. Cody leaned back and looked at the sky. A thousand Melindas couldn't change that.

He whistled softly through his teeth. That was the thing. He needed Nick. And when it came right down to it, he wanted Nick. His friend, his partner... his everything. Unbidden, Cody pictured Nick wet from the shower, skin gleaming, muscles rippling, and his cock filled against his thigh.

Cody sat up, dropping his feet to the deck and covering his eyes with his good hand. It did nothing to dispel the image. "I like girls," he said out loud. _"I like girls!"_

At the soft thump of a body dropping on to the bench opposite him, Cody lowered his hand. He looked up, half-guilty, half resigned.

Nick was sitting there. Not wet, not naked, but wearing an old loose t-shirt and ratty sweats, dark hair sticking up at odd angles. He looked sleepy and disheveled, and Cody gripped the arms of the deckchair to stop himself from touching. From _taking._

"I like girls too." Nick yawned and gave Cody a quizzical look. "But I don't get up at dawn to talk about it to--" he looked around "--a bunch of seagulls. What's up, buddy?"

"Just felt like some fresh air." Cody tried a smile, but it didn't seem to want to fit on his face.

"You sore?" Nick shifted closer and reached out, running a hand along the top of Cody's hurt shoulder, behind the sling.

Cody shuddered. He knew he should get up, go below, take a shower--a cold shower--then pick a fight with Nick, push him away, buy himself the space he needed to get himself under control. He'd done it a hundred times. But he was sore and the nightmares hadn't quit yet, and more than anything right now he needed Nick close to him.

"What's wrong? C'mon, big guy, talk to me, huh?" Nick tugged his arm gently and Cody abandoned the deck chair in favor of the bench and Nick's strong arms. Nick held him close. One arm was strong and solid across Cody's back, the other gentled the aches in Cody's shoulder then slid up his neck, stroking and soothing.

Cody looked down and took a deep breath. "D'you think this is... wrong?"

Nick's hand stilled, then left Cody's shoulder. Nick touched his cheek, then gently lifted his chin. "What, Cody? What are you talking about?"

Nick looked worried, almost frightened. Cody licked his lips apprehensively. "This. Us. How--how bad I need you. How you know what I'm thinking." He started to shake. "How I can't live without you, Nick. Because I can't, I know I can't, and I don't know what to do!" Cody tasted his own tears and realized he was crying. He'd said more than he meant to, and now he was afraid.

"Oh, Cody--" Nick's voice cracked. "Don't cry, baby. Don't cry. It's not wrong. Don't you know I can't live without you either? Don't you know you're everything to me?" Without giving Cody a chance to reply, Nick leaned in and kissed him.

For an instant, Cody was frozen. Then feelings exploded through him, the magic of Nick's lips so soft and sweet on his, the safety of Nick's touch. The perfection of the two of them, together.

At last Nick pulled back slightly, his hand still resting against Cody's jaw. He was panting, and his eyes were bright with emotion.

Cody struggled to catch his own breath. His heart hammered against his ribs. He thought he should be frightened at the enormity of what had just happened, but all he felt was exhilaration. He stared into Nick's eyes and saw his own joy reflected.

"Really?" he whispered. "Really, Nick?"

"I love you, Cody. I always have, an' I always will."

They kissed again, deep and slow. It was familiar and perfect; Cody had never found anything like it before, but he knew the experience intimately. He'd been seeking it his whole life.

He was home.

"I love you too, Nick."


End file.
